Polymath by John Brunner Page A

committee and called them to the headquarters hut to discuss their only reasonable course of action.
    “I don’t see why we have to argue,” Fritch said. He seemed more annoyed by being called away from workthan worried by the Joss of the river. “Someone’s got to walk upstream and find the blockage, then either clear it or, if it’s too big, come back for help. All we have to decide is who shall go.”
    Jerode cleared his throat. “I had it in mind to propose Lex.”
    Everyone except Ornelle nodded approval. Jerode added, “Though he hasn’t said he’s willing yet.”
    “Oh, I’ll go,” Lex said with a shrug. “And you won’t lose much work from my team, either. We’ve got about as much as we can out of our own ship now. Anything more will require flame-cutters, and until we can stabilize an underwater arc or maybe find a way of making pure fluorine we have nothing to touch the metal of the hull. Oxyhydrogen flames are easy, but they’re not hot enough. So I think it would be a good idea if, after we clear the blockage, I take my team on up to the plateau. If Ornelle’s belief is justified, our experience in carving up our own ship will be very useful when it comes to tackling the other one.”
    “I thought you’d come around to thinking the others might be alive after all,” Cheffy said. “Might have built a dam.”
    “I only meant to point out,” Lex said patiently, “that a dam-building animal does exist here. I’m sorry if I answered your question too literally.”
    “Yes, Bendle?” Jerode said hastily. Cheffy sounded uncharacteristically bad-tempered. Well he might be, with all his cherished schemes hanging fire for an indefinite period.
    The gray-haired biologist leaned forward, rubbing a strawberry rash on his cheek, souvenir of an encounter with the plant they had nicknamed blisterweed. “I’m not sure about Lex taking his entire salvage team. I suggest you take one of my people, someone intimately acquainted with the local flora and fauna. Perhaps one of Fritch’s people, too, in case you need expert advice on how best to demolish the blockage.”
    “Sounds sensible,” Fritch said reluctantly. “Though I hope you don’t keep my man away too long, Lex.”
    “I’ll try not to,” Lex murmured. He could read their opinions on their faces:
He’s a capable young fellow, tough, levelheaded—and rather him than me
.
    “Very well, then,” Jerode said. “Now the question of numbers. How many can we spare altogether?”
    Everyone looked at Lex. “How many do you think you need?” Aldric demanded.
    “Half a dozen should be enough,” Lex answered. “We only have seven energy guns.”
    “Are you thinking of taking them all?” Ornelle burst out. “Suppose while you’re away we—”
    “Suppose nothing!” Fritch snapped. “He’s right. They’re more important to people venturing into strange country than they are to us down here.”
    “But if we lose—”
    “You’d rather lose people than guns?”
    Ornelle subsided, cheeks fiery. Fritch went on, “And what rations should we give you, Lex—enough for a week?”
    “About that. We could carry more, but I don’t think we could carry water for much longer. It’s heavy, and in this heat we’re likely to drink a lot. Could you ask for a volunteer from your gang, then? And you, Bendle? I know who else from my own team I’d like to have with me.”
    “That seems to be settled, then,” Fritch said with satisfaction. “Doc, while I happen to be here: about that hut you want expanded into a proper infirmary…”
    The assembly met in gathering darkness. The lights taken from the ship, which had been used throughout last winter, had begun to fail, and there was so far no way of fabricating replacements, though the informative Cheffy had referred to lamp filaments made of carbonized thread. Accordingly posts had been set up on which resinous torches flared and reeked. Curiously, people seemed to like this crude illumination,